A questionable quest
by HighFivingGoodbyes
Summary: Dorian is the new kid at camp,& after finding out she's Percy's sister,finds herself in a heap of trouble with pretty much everybody. Now she and her friends have to do the most stupid quest ever. Better than it sounds. Percabeth. Contains 1 sex ref.
1. a PREFACE from hades

**A questionable quest.**

_Hey guys! It's you favourite writer, the one, the only….HFG!_

_Thank you, thank you. Now, to begin, I'd like to thank my mother…_

_That's enough of that!_

_Okay, enough fooling around, Gilligan, and get on with the story!_

_Okay okay! Sheesh!_

_Okay, I'm done fooling around, let's get serious…_

_Today, I shall be starting a story called 'A questionable quest'_

_I'll be writing it in turn with Your Camp Half Blood, my other significant story (Drabbles of a Percabeth sort is just for funsies.)_

_I shall write this preface, plus two chapters of this, then two chapters of YCHB then this…_

_You get the point._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy!_

_Yours truly,_

_HFG_

_**Preface**_

_**An abroad trip for newbies**_

August picked at his nails unsurely, hoping Chiron was kidding.

Apparently not.

'Of course. It's not like I'm afraid or anything,'

There was just something about aeroplanes that August couldn't stand. Maybe it was being so far from nature…Or maybe, it was just the whole concept of flying altogether.

Either way, August was quaking in his hooves.

Chiron smirked. He found this funny. Surely not?

But he did.

'Of course August, if it would be any relief to you, you can be accompanied by two campers,'

August sighed. At least he would have someone to make sure he didn't die. Preferably someone brave.

Preferably one of the cabin heads.

Hopefully Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase.

But of course, August wasn't that lucky.

'Yes it would. Thank you Chiron,' He bowed his head, and Chiron left to find the campers, circled around the campfire, singing merrily (and badly) and roasting marshmallows.

August was right on his heels, shaking slightly with worry.

_Not one of the new ones. Not one of the new ones._ He pleaded, though, since he didn't say it out loud, I doubt anyone heard…

Unless Edward Cullen happened to be here.

Doubting that, August sighed and sat down next to his first _newbie_, Beatriz, the Cuban daughter of Aphrodite.

Chiron grinned, his bright white teeth gleaming by the firelight.

He began to explain to the campers the situation. 'Any volunteers?'

A few hands were raised, including Percy and Annabeth. August crossed his fingers.

Beatriz also had her hand up; smiling proudly like it was some kind of achievement.

'Oh, might I add, you'll be going to Scotland,'

Beatriz reluctantly took her hand down. She didn't like cold weather, or the rain, so of course, it was understandable.

A few other hands did the same, most likely for the same reason.

But there were still far too many hands in the air. Far, far too many. 15, but they only wanted two. 16 plane tickets would cost a lot of money.

Looks like they're gonna have to fight for it.


	2. Chapter 1 I get abducted by a goat

**A questionable quest.**

_Its Chapter one, a chapter of mystery and intrigue, the chapter that enthrals the reader, makes them want to read more._

_And here it is!_

_HFG here, ready to wow you out of those lovely socks you're wearing…_

_Be prepared._

_Disclaimer; I only own Dorian, August, Miss. Johannah and Rielly. I don't even own Beatriz, since she's one of my reviewers for YCHB! (You know who you are…)_

_Or Lamia. I kinda use her way too much, mainly because I can't be bothered researching Greek myths that haven't been used yet._

_Oh yeah, I forgot David, but he isn't important….well, then again, neither is Miss. Johannah…._

_Anyhoo…back to the matter at hand…_

_**Chapter 1**_

_**I get abducted by a goat**_

My name is Dorian. Dorian Maddox.

And my life changed on what seemed like a usual day at high school.

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock…_ The wall clock chimed, louder than my uncle's old banger's rusty old engine, which has been known too chug black smoke out at unsuspecting pedestrians on a regular basis.

Behind me, David has something in his mouth. Something hard. (I know what you're thinking, and just stop right there. This is a maths class, not a whorehouse. Anyway…)

It was, by the sounds of it, a hard candy, which he rattled about his mouth constantly, crunching, clicking it against his yellowed but poker straight teeth (Lucky sod wasting his awesome luck by never meeting a toothbrush)

My teacher, Miss. Johannah, was ranting on about something involving trigonometry…I think. I wasn't paying much attention. I was too distracted by the big plastic wall clock and David's infuriating hard candy.

What was annoying about Miss. Johannah is that she notices nothing. Not one single thing. I bet it's because she's so old her hearing and eyesight have both become just a hazy blur of colour and humming noises.

Plus, she talked so loudly you'd think she was holding a microphone. But oh no, that's just her pipes. And I'm not talking about the old shaggy bagpipes that sat in her broom cupboard. What I'm wondering, is why Maths classrooms (and, as a matter of fact, most classrooms, Need a broom closet. It's not like the teacher is gonna notice someone drop a pencil shaving hit the ground and start sweeping up in the middle of class.

Maybe it's used to keep her home nice and tidy, considering she lives in that closet.

Let me explain…

As a child I had always believed that teachers weren't human. They were robots used in the programming of young minds. That I wasn't too far off with, but here comes the weird part.

I didn't think they had actual lives outside the classroom. I didn't even think they were alive at all, mind you, so don't go assuming I'm thick or something.

I thought they lived in the cupboards, just waiting for school to start up again.

But of course, I was 5-6 back then, so irrational assumptions like that are kind of understandable.

Anyway, I was trying to force myself to concentrate, but of course, I have the attention span of a brick. A brick with ADD.

Drumming my fingers on the desk and staring out of the window, my mind drifted off into fantasy, like it always does, and I wasn't even sure if what happened next was real or not.

_Knock knock_ someone drummed on the flimsy wooden door.

My head snapped over to stare at the crudely painted purple door, and then at the woman in the doorway.

It was our school secretary, Ursula, whom reminded me vaguely of the baddy in 'The little mermaid' but not because of her name. –But that too, I guess.

It was just the sheer size of her. She was gargantuan, taking up the whole doorway, her far too tight floaty black dress showing off far too much knee and cankle.

'Excuse me, Ms. Jo-_Hannahhhhh…'_ She trailed off in a whispered hiss. 'But Dorian Maddoxxxxx'sss mother is in reception for her,'

Her lisp was so annoying. Especially when it was ruining MY name.

But what was disturbing was…my mother was dead. I'd seen it happen. She was waiting for her train, when, just as it was coming, she fell out on front of it.

Or at least that's what I'd thought. I was eight at the time, and didn't understand that my mother had been so depressed since my father left her, not long after she had my brother Rielly. He was five now, but he had the brain of a two year old. It's not his fault; he never had any parents to look after him. Not really.

But, despite all that, I got up out of my seat, grabbed my bag and coat, and suspiciously followed Ursula to the reception.

Her heels clicked loudly on the hard floor, _click click click, _enough to make you want to hit yourself in the face with a fire extinguisher.

We were alone in the office. Just her and me. No ghosts of mothers past…nothing.

'Miss. Johnsberg, why am I here?'

'My dear, you are here because your father was very very stupid,' she hissed, her tone menacing.

What did my father have to do with anything? I've never even met him!

'Miss…can I go now? My Mums not here. She's dead. I should probably get back to class…'

But then Miss Johnsberg grabbed my shoulder with sharp fingernails.

'I don't think ssssso, Dorian,'

I gulped. What did she want from me?

Then she changed. Not much, I might add. She still had a face like a kicked in peach and a body like Homer Simpson, but now she was double the size and a snake slithered around her fat arm, coiling itself around her, squeezing the reptilian skin.

She still managed to fit (sort of) her black dress, which seemed to grow with her.

Her mouth opened wide. Wider than normal. Wider than a human can. It was like she had dislocated her jaw, like a snake.

'Dory. Dory, puny Dory. You really think you stand a chance?'

Against something, whatever she was, like her? No way. She'd swallow me whole. Literally.

'I am Lamia, Dorian. And this is your final hour, sea child,'

Sea child?

Panicking, I turned and ran, back towards the stairs, but, despite her slovenly appearance, she was fast. Real fast.

I wondered what a Lamia was, thanks to my stupid ADD. It's a curse, I tell you. But to be honest, I didn't really want to find out. Not yet anyway. I'd Google her if I managed to stay alive. And spell it correctly.

Finally reaching the stairs, I ran, taking them two at a time, but being careful not to fall, as the beast followed me.

'Help!' I screamed.

Of course, no one was around to help. Chances are nobody heard me. Or cares enough to actually do something.

So I just had to make my own way out of there.

I still had my backpack.

As I climbed each flight of stairs, I began pulling out things that I could use as weapons. My best bet was my umbrella, followed by my water bottle, made from a flimsy blue metal.

I guess it'll just HAVE to work.

I lengthened my umbrella, and held it like a sword.

I spun around; catching Lamia/Ursula/Whatever the hell she is by surprise and hit her swiftly with the umbrella.

Startled, she stepped back. Just as she stumbled, I poked her chest with the end of my umbrella and she tumbled backwards.

She'd landed on something. Something I couldn't see. But it was something significant, because, as it turned out, it had turned her to dust in an instant.

'Whoa!' I gasped, the adrenaline pumping in my veins.

'Hey kid. Time to whoop some monster booty,'

Standing in the French corridor in orange T-shirts were two boys and a girl, each about 15.

The smallest of the three was skinny and pale, and looked like a ten year old with acne and a little bit of a beard.

The girl had stringy brown hair, pulled back into a rough ponytail, her pig like eyes gleaming with a strange unintelligible emotion.

The other boy was of average height, with thick black hair, startling green eyes and a tan that was to die for, along with the athletically toned swimmers body.

'Who are you?' I asked the three strangers. 'Why 'ent you in your uniform?'

The girl answered with a shrug and a snort. 'We don't go to school here. That's why,'

She had a gruffly American accent. Broad, yet subtle -if that's possible.

'Then why are you here?' I wondered.

Then the taller boy smiled. 'To save you from things like _her…_'

I figured her was talking about the thing that had just tried to kill me, but his eyes never left the girl beside him, his face a mixture of annoyance and anger.

'Shut up, Punk,' She told him, and he averted his gaze back to me.

I swallowed, trying to collect my thoughts. His voice was distinct. Definatly American, but different somehow.

I guessed New York, because he sounded like more than one character in one of my favourite sitcoms, from you guessed it, New York.

'But who are you?'

The pale boy stopped picking at his nails to give me a nervous look.

'I am August. This is Clarisse and Percy,'

Weird names, those Americans.

But then again, Dory isn't very common either.

'Uh…I'm Dorian,'

I bit my lip.

After all the introductions were over and done with, I was pretty much gob smacked.

'You're lying! No way!'

Percy eyed me curiously. 'Why else would we fly all the way over here to see you?'

I shrugged. 'You wanted my shoes?' I glanced at my tatty converse and shook my head sadly. 'I doubt it. You can get them for less than half the price over there,'

They smiled at that. 'Exactly. Now c'mon, you need to trust us,'

How could I trust them? We'd only just met five minutes ago and now they're asking me to run of to some camp on the other side of the planet.

But for some reason, I did. They looked sincere, and they seemed pretty nice…

No. I couldn't. I shouldn't. What about Rielly? What about my Aunt Lee and Uncle Jamie? (That's who Rielly and I have been living with since my mum jumped in front of a train.)

I asked them this.

'We were actually going to bring Rielly with us,'

That struck a nerve.

'NO! Absolutely not! My life had been just fine until you guys showed up! And you want to do the same to my five year old brother? Are you insane?'

August was staring at his feet nervously. 'It's not our fault. Well, not mine anyway. Chiron _made _me come,'

Clarisse gave him a glare. 'It's not our fault either, goat boy! Sure, we volunteered to come, but that was just for the trip abroad!'

Percy nodded in agreement.

'But still! Why would you even suggest that we bring Rielly? He's much safer at home!'

A flicker of sadness hit August like a wave. I could see it in his eyes.

'No he isn't. Camp half blood is the only safe place for people like you…' He trailed off.

Something clicked in my mind.

'You said "_people like you_". So you're not a…' I began to mumble.

But August butt in. 'A demigod? No. I'm not. I'm a satyr,'

Clarisse's words rang in my head like the school bell.

"_It's not our fault either, goat boy…"_

'You're part goat,' I stated.

August beamed. 'You know what a satyr is? Most 'just discovering' demigods don't,'

Although his words didn't exactly make sense, I seemed to understand what he meant.

'Sorta. I was educated guessing,'

He smiled.

There was an awkward pause.

After a minute or so of awkwardness, Clarisse said 'So, are you coming or what?'

I bit my lip, thinking for a minute.

'Can I come back to visit Rielly?'

But then it struck me. He'd be too far away for comfort. I'd need him to come.

Sure, he couldn't take part in any activities, but at least he'd be safe, and close enough to me that I wouldn't have to fly out to Scotland every week.

Clarisse and Percy glanced at August nervously. 'Can she?'

'Ummmm…'

I took a deep breath. 'We'll be there. Both of us,'

'


End file.
